Fear and Loathing at the Motorcity Comicon

20 May


Publication1

 

Part 1:  Escape from Ann Arbor. A High Speed Burn Through Farmland and Desolation in The Great White Whale. First Day at the Convention.

??????????

I was somewhere around South Lyon, near the edge of the city, when the drugs began to take hold.  I remember saying something like “It’s time for me to start getting into that beer in the back, maybe you should drive.” But the passenger seat was empty.  I’d forgotten.  That rat bastard attorney of mine was nowhere to be found, and owing me at least 81 dollars no less.  This left me with a mere 1726 dollars and 54 cents.  I also had a cooler full of beer, 4 Acapulco shirts of varying colors, two pairs of khaki shorts, several changes of underwear and socks, an iPod with exterior speakers for playing special music in my soundproof suite, my journal, a camera and, perhaps most importantly, a full body disguise in case I needed to travel incognito at some point over the weekend.  Not that I really needed all this for the trip, but once you get locked into a serious comic book collection, the tendency is to push it as far as you can.

 

24 hours earlier I was sitting at a window booth at the New York Pizza Depot in downtown Ann Arbor, slurping down slices of cheese pizza and pondering my plans for the next day.  It was absolutely imperative that I acquire a black leather wrist band with silver metal studs, otherwise my attire for the weekend would not be complete.  I also needed a large cooler for beer, a fly swatter, and a rental vehicle.  I spent the rest of the day gathering up materials, and then capped the evening off by going to see a new monster movie.

??????????

 

When I got up the next morning, I spent 4 hours at work, the last that would be required of me for nearly 5 full days, then picked up a big white U-Haul van and stopped by home to pick up the necessary supplies, double check my financial situation, and chart out a path to Novi.  Most people would probably opt for the highway, but on a dangerous assignment such as this I needed to be off the grid and completely invisible,  so I selected a stair-stepping east/north route through farmland, hill and dale that in theory would take me directly to the Convention Center with minimal if any encounters with the MHP. (Michigan Highway Patrol.)

After rattling around on several rarely used dirt roads that threatened to shake the rental van to pieces, my plan to have lunch in South Lyon was thwarted by a detour around the center of town due to construction.  I hadn’t even done anything wrong yet and already forces were conspiring against me.  So I headed straight to the convention center and opted for an overpriced cheeseburger and fries.  As soon as I entered the convention, I felt more relaxed.  More at ease.  These were my people.  People who loved putting on costumes and playing a role straight out of their favorite movies, books, and comics. people whose minds were full of fantasy, and I am chock full of that, man!

??????????

 

I was, however, alone, which made the experience a little more boring.  I had no to banter with.  No one to take photos of me with various costumed characters.  The only way to do this was to ask complete strangers to take my picture for me.  This is something I’ve never been particularly good at without the benefit of copious amounts of alcohol, but I managed to get a few pictures anyway.  (Tomorrow would be different, I knew.  Tomorrow would be a new trip, I was sure.  Today’s mission was simply to buy a few comics, eat some food, and head out to my fancy hotel room that I had shelled out almost 200 dollars a night for.)

leilu

 

First I had a rather disappointing experience with a childhood hero, in the form of a pro wrestler who was very popular during the 80’s.  His shtick back then was to cut his opponent’s hair off if he defeated them in the ring.  I had been kind of excited to see him. but when I saw the guy at his little booth, looking ancient and crusty, being completely ignored by the convention goers, I sort of felt sorry for him.  Out of sheer pity I walked over to him, all excited about telling him about the time I almost broke my arm in my childhood once when he had defeated (and cut the hair off)  The Honky Tonk Man, a wrestler I truly despised.  (Which I realize now, in retrospect, meant that The Honky Tonk Man was, in fact, really good at his job.)  Before I got a chance to talk to him two middle aged bimbos dressed like Carmen Soprano came sauntering up, basically shoving me aside.  “Do you remember us?”  They squealed.  The wrestler looked them over and said he did, though I could see in his eyes he didn’t.  (He was lying.)  In spite of their obvious lack of intelligence, they could sense it too, and produced a bunch of photos to prove to him that they had, in fact, encountered him before.  (I didn’t get a glimpse of these photos.  I am harboring a strong suspicion they may have been sexual in nature.)  Apparently these two had been an EXTREMELY low tier female pro wrestling tag team back in the 80’s.) One of them kept looking me over with her wide spaced out blue eyes.  “OH!” she said, spying my (clearly hand made with a sharpie pen) “Press Badge.”  “You’re with the press?”  A glint of interest had sparked in her eye.  “Oh yeah!” I spouted automatically, my fictional character completely taking over for the moment.  “Raoul Duke!  Famous Doctor of Journalism!  Shit! Rolling Stone Magazine sent me here.  Shit!”  “Ohhhhh!” She cooed, completely buying it.  I could have carried on with the ruse, but this was all too much for me.  I bailed.  The highlight of the experience was when, as I walked away, someone asked to take my picture right there, in front of the wrestler and his two ancient bimbo cronies.   (Me…A guy in a costume!)  All this while nobody but the two old cronies paid the slightest attention to the wrestler.

??????????

I wandered around a bit, hoping to see someone I knew, bought about a hundred comic books, and then found myself surprisingly anxious to check out my soundproof suite.  Or maybe not.  After all, that hotel room was costing me more for two days than my apartment in Ann Arbor costs for a whole month.  And besides that I wanted to park the great white whale and get into some strong drink.  If only the Comicon had a bar.  They have no idea how much money they are missing out on by failing to provide us costumed freaks with booze.  Then again, maybe it’s a good thing.  It’s hard telling what kind of mindless science fiction/ comic book inspired orgy could ensue if they started giving booze to us crazy sons of bitches.  So I ducked out and drove the U-Haul over to my hotel, which was about a mile away.  I had no problem checking in, which surprised me.  (That was the ever present paranoia at work.  Forever convinced that something will go wrong at a crucial moment.)

237

I went to my room, discovered I had a refrigerator, which made my run for a borrowed cooler completely obsolete, and went back downstairs to stuff several beers into an inconspicuous brown paper sack, because I was convinced I would get in some kind of trouble if I was seen bringing beer up into my hotel room. Then I quickly pounded down four of them and headed out into the paved urban wasteland that is Novi.

Entrance_to_Twelve_Mile_Crossing_at_Fountain_Walk_Shopping_Center_Novi_Michigan

That is an understatement really.  If anybody wanted to see a textbook example of the mindless corporate decay of America, it exists as a nearly living entity as “Novi,” Michigan.  It’s not really a city so much as a gross expanse of stucco strip mall facades, masquerading as a city.  No matter.  I was on vacation, in character, and what I needed now was strong drink.  I walked into the first bar I came to, which turned out to be a sort of Irish Pub/semi Strip Club called The Tilted Kilt.  I felt very out of place until people started coming up to me and complimenting me on my outfit, even a couple of the waitresses.  Some of them even wanted to have their picture taken with me.

244

243

Then I actually became part of some guy’s bachelor party.  He REALLY wanted to have his picture taken with Hunter S. Thompson.  So much so that I wondered if he knew I wasn’t really Hunter S. Thompson.  After this my memory of the evening is fragmented.  There was some smoking of some sort of strange herbs in the car of the members of the bachelor party.  (Me and a bunch of complete strangers!)  Of that much I am sure.  There was another bar, a sort of fancy bar where I was sort of snubbed by the well dressed patrons and bartenders alike, probably because of my strange attire, so I answered in kind by leaving a 20 dollar tip after just two drinks.  There were a couple more drinks at the bar in my hotel, and I vaguely remember a conversation with a slightly older couple sitting there next to me.  The wife was familiar with Hunter S. Thompson, the husband was not, so I explained, in whatever detail I was capable of at that time.  They seemed friendly enough, but perhaps that’s just my drunken memory playing tricks on me.  At some point I returned to my room, ordered a pizza from some random local pizza place, and promptly passed out.

(To be continued…)

One Response to “Fear and Loathing at the Motorcity Comicon”

  1. thedukerebuke May 24, 2014 at 5:50 pm #

    Reblogged this on The Daily Hippie.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

AlyZen Moonshadow

The words and works of AlyZen Moonshadow, digital mixed media photography artist, designer, musician, poet, philosopher, mother, muse, Goddess!

Are You Finished Yet?

I like to write about stuff. I usually try to be funny. Take it or leave it.

Michael Rios

Sherlock unlocking the past

anewperspectiveperhaps

This site is about everything from my philosophy on life to the little things that make me laugh. IIt is about living, and breathing, and pausing long enough to take it all in. I hope it makes you laugh, sometimes makes you cry, but always makes you want to come back for another visit. It is your words, and your likes that inspire me to keep writing. And it is through my writing that you have a very large window to my soul. Relax awhile, read, and enjoy!

Be Free 2 Love

Soaring through Life, Love, & Happiness: One story at time.

PotatoPen

That's right! I write!

Forty, c'est Fantastique !

La vie est belle !

Mr Tookles

tee hee

The Dependent Independent

TV, movies, books…rants… just trying to put skills to use.

Fictional Kevin

Cigar Fueled Creative Writing

Tubularsock

". . . first hand coverage, second hand news"

Elizabeth Conrad

True stories from a recovering asshole.

jenny's lark

the beauty of an ordinary life

Skinny and Single

Single and Over 40 and Not Suicidal About It

BunKaryudo

Lovingly Hand-Crafted Humor Blog

Life After 50

Life at any age can be amazing! We only need to grab hold & experience it!

Lessons from my daughter

Although all doctors agreed she would do nothing.....

lindaseccaspina

remembers the invention of the wheel

Fiction Favorites

with John W. Howell

Retro Girl & the Chemo Kid

Superpower: love. Adventures through childhood cancer, grief, healing and happiness.

What Rhymes with Stanza?

Words at rest, words at play

Life and Random Thinking

A old dog CAN blog

Just Fred in Wyo

Just a guy living life. These are my personal words and photos.

Live Laugh RV

Our next Chapter

NestOfSquirrels

Acorns. And scurrying.

The Falling Thoughts

Poems, Poetry Plus Passion

heretherebespiders

blowing through the cobwebs of my mind

Mental Defecation

My mind poops here

emmakwall (explains it all)

Film & soundtrack reviews, good humour and lists

AlyZen Moonshadow

The words and works of AlyZen Moonshadow, digital mixed media photography artist, designer, musician, poet, philosopher, mother, muse, Goddess!

Are You Finished Yet?

I like to write about stuff. I usually try to be funny. Take it or leave it.

Michael Rios

Sherlock unlocking the past

anewperspectiveperhaps

This site is about everything from my philosophy on life to the little things that make me laugh. IIt is about living, and breathing, and pausing long enough to take it all in. I hope it makes you laugh, sometimes makes you cry, but always makes you want to come back for another visit. It is your words, and your likes that inspire me to keep writing. And it is through my writing that you have a very large window to my soul. Relax awhile, read, and enjoy!

Be Free 2 Love

Soaring through Life, Love, & Happiness: One story at time.

PotatoPen

That's right! I write!

Forty, c'est Fantastique !

La vie est belle !

Mr Tookles

tee hee

The Dependent Independent

TV, movies, books…rants… just trying to put skills to use.

Fictional Kevin

Cigar Fueled Creative Writing

Tubularsock

". . . first hand coverage, second hand news"

Elizabeth Conrad

True stories from a recovering asshole.

jenny's lark

the beauty of an ordinary life

Skinny and Single

Single and Over 40 and Not Suicidal About It

BunKaryudo

Lovingly Hand-Crafted Humor Blog

Life After 50

Life at any age can be amazing! We only need to grab hold & experience it!

Lessons from my daughter

Although all doctors agreed she would do nothing.....

lindaseccaspina

remembers the invention of the wheel

Fiction Favorites

with John W. Howell

Retro Girl & the Chemo Kid

Superpower: love. Adventures through childhood cancer, grief, healing and happiness.

What Rhymes with Stanza?

Words at rest, words at play

Life and Random Thinking

A old dog CAN blog

Just Fred in Wyo

Just a guy living life. These are my personal words and photos.

Live Laugh RV

Our next Chapter

NestOfSquirrels

Acorns. And scurrying.

The Falling Thoughts

Poems, Poetry Plus Passion

heretherebespiders

blowing through the cobwebs of my mind

Mental Defecation

My mind poops here

emmakwall (explains it all)

Film & soundtrack reviews, good humour and lists

%d bloggers like this: